


sorrow's companion

by warriorwife



Series: mass effect drabbles [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mass Effect, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Soft Sad Space Gays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 17:06:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6996994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warriorwife/pseuds/warriorwife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the one in which we see how lexa deals with the past year after the attack on the normandy</p>
            </blockquote>





	sorrow's companion

It’s one in the morning and she’s drunk. She was really never a heavy drinker, in fact she hardly ever drank at all. But it’s been one year since the brightest star in the galaxy burned out, and with each passing day it didn't get any easier. 

She’s already had two Full Biotic Kicks, and one Quad Kicker, and she’s really starting to question how she hasn't fallen out of the bar stool yet. A glass filled with pale green liquid is placed in front of her. Lexa’s gaze focuses on the glass and she lifts her head up to see who might have given it to her. She calls the bartender back over to her.

“Um, I'm sorry-” Before she can even finish her sentence a hiccup escapes from her lips. She squeezes her eyes shut and laughs. “I’m sorry but this is mine,” she squints at the glass in an attempt to remember whether or not she had ordered the drink at all. “At least I don't think it is.”

“It’s an asari drink Major, a whole lot easier to stomach than the other drinks you've been drinking. And it’s on the house.”

Lexa brings the drink to her lips and takes a sip. The liquid runs down her throat and at first the feeling is sharp, cold almost, but not unpleasant in the slightest. She calls for the bartender once more.

She sways in her stool as the bartender walks back over to her. Lexa picks up the glass and points to it. “This stuff, what do you call it?”

“Elasa.”

“Eel what?”

“Ee-Lah-Sah.”

Lexa leans over the bar and brings herself closer so that she may hear better. The music in the bar is too loud and even being this close, Lexa still couldn't understand a word she was saying. The bartender grabs a napkin from underneath the bar, and scribbles a couple of words onto it. She slides it over to Lexa and suddenly she finds herself at a loss for words.

**_Sorrow’s Companion_**

\----------------

Lexa makes it back to her room by 2:22. She drags her feet across the floor, each step heavier than the last. She makes it over to her bed and sets herself down. Lexa brings her hands to her face and rubs at the tired feeling in her eyes. Get yourself together, Lexa. She pushes a strand of hair back behind her ear and rests her hands in her lap. And she stays like that for the next thirty minutes, her gaze fixated on nothing but the empty space on her wall.

_She’s gone. She’s gone. She’s gone. She’s gone and she’s never coming back. I have to accept that. I have to. I have to. I can't._

Lexa repeats that in her head like a mantra.

By the time she finally makes it into bed, it’s already three. She had just taken a cold shower and slipped into something more comfortable to sleep in. She certainly didn't want to fall asleep with the smell of alcohol still lingering over her. She lays in bed for hours, her eyes never allowing her the sleep she so desperately wanted. She wanted to sleep. She wanted to dream. Because in her dreams she could be with Clarke. In her dreams, she was happy.

Instead she’s awake and restless, and Clarke is not there to comfort her. Clarke is not there to tell her that it will be okay, that it’s just a nightmare. That she’s right there beside her, but she’s not. She’s gone and Lexa didn't want to live in a world in which Clarke was not at her side.

The thought of it was practically unbearable. 

All Lexa had left was an empty space in her bed and memories of what once was. Pieces of the woman she loved and lost.

\----------------

Lexa wakes to the sound of a knock at her door. She slowly props herself up by her elbow and immediately she feels the effect of the night before. She groans and brings her hand to her head and massages at her temple. The knocking at the door becomes more persistent, louder. Three sharp knocks.

“Just one minute!”

She grabs the sweater that was left on the kitchen counter and pulls it over head. Before opening the door, she checks the video monitor just to be safe. When she recognizes the familiar face she opens up the door.

“Admiral Roan.” Lexa stands at attention and salutes him.

“At ease Major. May I have a word?”

“Of course. Let me just clear a space at the table-”

“No need this will only take a minute.”

Roan rummages through his bag before pulling out a small black box. He holds out in the palm of his hand.

“A patrol found this while they were scouting the wreckage of the Normandy on Alchera. I thought that you might wanted to keep this.”

Lexa’s breath catches in her throat as she takes the box from Roan’s hand. She steadies her hands from shaking and slowly opens the box. Inside was a silver chain, and a dog tag slightly burned at the edges. She couldn't see the full name, but she immediately knew who it belonged to. Roan wouldn't bring it to her otherwise.

 **GRIFFIN, C.**  
**CMDR**  
**5923-AC-2826**  
**ALLIANCE NAVY**

A moment of silence passes between them before Roan speaks up.

“Lexa, I know what she meant to you.” 

Lexa looks up at Roan, a look of surprise on her face.

“How did you-”

“The eyes say a lot more than words ever could Major. You loved her.”

“I did,” She gives a small smile and tries her best not to let the tears fall. “I still do.”

“Well that will be all then. I must return to my post, we have a galaxy to protect.”

Lexa gives the Admiral a small nod and all she hears is the faint tap of his shoes retreating down the hall.

\----------------

She sits at her kitchen table, with Clarke’s tag clasped firmly in her hands. She lays out the tag in the palm of her hand and runs her thumb across Clarke’s name.

Lexa chokes back a sob, and brings her hand to her mouth so that she can keep quiet. But it’s no use. Her cheeks are wet and she’s shaking. 

_I'm sorry Clarke. I couldn't save you. I'm so sorry._

Hours later, Lexa finds herself on the floor at the edge of her bed. Her knees at her chest and her arms wrapped firmly around herself, Clarke’s tag still dangling between her hands.

A million thoughts race through Lexa’s mind. _Is Clarke alive? Did she survive?_

Lexa may never know the answer to those questions. The best Lexa could do was keep her memory of Clarke alive. That’s all she could do. She takes Clarke’s tag and puts it around her neck, keeping it close to her heart, right where it should be. Lexa smiles sadly and places her hand over the cold steel pressing against her warm skin.

“I miss you so much.” Lexa allows herself to unravel in that moment. She held onto Clarke’s tag like a lifeline, and maybe it was enough to get her by. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> for more clexa related angst, you can find me on tumblr @missalyciacarey


End file.
